


what will it be today?

by jenhyung



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 16:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11627811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenhyung/pseuds/jenhyung
Summary: Taeil's a barista over at a campus cafe, and a tall man refuses to share his name. — Taeil / Youngho (Barista!AU)





	what will it be today?

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: 2k+ of attempted fluff and humor, filled with plot holes and bad writing.

“Here he comes,” Taeil mutters to himself as the door swings open. A tall man with confident strides sidles up to the counter, backpack slung over a shoulder, a hand jammed into the front pocket of his jeans. A comfortable grin greets Taeil as it did every other day.

“Hey,” he says, fishing his wallet out of the back pocket of his oh-so-tight jeans, eyes still locked with Taeil’s. A silent,  _it’s good to see you again._

“What can I get you?” It takes Taeil every bone in his body not to sigh. He fiddles with the uncapped marker, an empty cup in his left hand.

“Uhm,” he squints at the menu board above the counter, and Taeil tries to swallow the dead rat lodged in his throat. There’s just a certain glint in the man’s eyes that rattles Taeil’s heart. “An iced white chocolate mocha,” comes the reply. 

“Sweet,” Taeil comments, marking the clear cup accordingly.

“I’ve an all night movie marathon later on,” He waggles his eyebrows, tampering with the donation box on the counter.

“And who is it for today?” Taeil asks, and he refuses to look at the other, knowing a cheeky smile would be dancing on his lips. He looks anyway (“You have no sense of self control,” Taeyong, best friend of ten years, chastised, when he stayed up finishing the sixth Harry Potter movie), and true enough, he’s looked down at with a stare and smile that could turn his legs into jelly.

“You can make it out to  _Ironman_ ,” and Taeil sighs. Yet another fake name today.

“This is getting old, y’know,” Taeil offers, punching the order into the cashier, grabbing the man’s rewards card, swiping it swiftly when the machine beeps reliably. “You’ve fifty-two dollars left.” 

“ _Au contraire,_   _mon chéri_!” he smirks. Taeil shoots him a confused look, sliding the empty cup towards the work station, where Yuta’s busy conjuring up cups of sugar and caffeine. The taller shakes his head, “On the contrary,” he translates carefully, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “I think it’s… interesting!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Taeil snorts ungraciously, handing the man his card and receipt. “Wait for your drink on the left,  _Ironman_. Next!”

 

x

 

“That’s weird.” 

"You’re telling me,” Taeil murmurs around a spoonful of soup. He grimaces and deems it too hot, leaning back in his seat, his co-worker staring at him intently. “What?”

"Nothing,” Doyoung shrugs, taking a bite out of his sandwich and looking away, his green apron still tied around his waist. The cramped backroom of the café was the only place they could have a quick lunch, the only break during every seven-hour shift. “Just wondering what the guy sees in you,” Doyoung muses, and Taeil flicks a dust bunny at him.

"Seriously!” Doyoung exclaims, a mouthful of sandwich. Picking a tomato slice gingerly and conveniently tossing it into the nearby trash can, Doyoung groans like an old man when he sits back down. “How long has this been going on?”

Taeil contemplates, “A couple of weeks?”

“A couple of weeks!” His co-worker repeats incredulously, “And he’s been coming in every day, giving you a fake name? Who does that?”

The older shrugs, looking down into his soup bowl, genuinely unable to answer Doyoung, “Not  _every day_.”

A bout of silence, and then, “It’s weird.”

“I know, Doyoung.”

 

x

 

Taeil doesn’t think it’s  _too_ odd.

After a seven-hour shift of taking orders and constructing different concoctions of coffee, Taeil is still busy, wiping down tables, humming quietly to himself. He glances at the clock on the wall,  _10:50PM_. Ten minutes to closing. The sound of containers falling breaks the cosy silence, followed by Doyoung cursing roughly at himself. Taeil chuckles and continues humming, a song he’d heard sometime during his shift, rearranging the tables and chairs. Just as he straightens his back, giving it a stretch, a customer pokes his head through the door, licking his lips nervously. His black hair flops to cover his eyes a little, and Taeil fidgets with the cloth in his hands.

“Hey, are you guys closed?”

Doyoung groans loudly from the back (another clash of containers and more cursing). Taeil assures the tall man, “We’re still open, don’t worry,” he shuffles towards the cashier, just as the tall man enters the empty shop.

“Thanks,” he says rather sheepishly, hand coming up to rub his nape. He looks like a small kid like that, despite the height and broad shoulders, Taeil thinks to himself. He stares down at Taeil ( _Curse this height difference,_  Taeil thinks), dark eyes piercing.

His mouth seems to have grown a cotton field, drying up his throat, thus ceasing his ability to speak. So, Taeil nods as if to say  _it’s okay_ , grabbing the marker that was tucked behind his ear. The taller grabs his wallet from his back pocket, glancing at the menu board before turning back to Taeil again, “Can I just get an iced Americano?”

“Sure,” Taeil clears his throat, keying in the order. “That’ll be $3.99. Your name, please?”

He looks up from digging through his wallet before making a show, turning to look around the empty outlet. He turns back to Taeil, swiping a tuft of hair away from his eyes. “I’m the only one here though.”

Taeil stalls, and then splutters, “Oh… I know, I just mean, like,” The man chuckles, and Taeil wants to crawl into a hole. He lifts the empty cup, “I just wanted your name for the, uh, cup.”

“Hm,” The taller contemplates, a sudden shine in his eyes. He leans forward and Taeil grips the cup a little tighter, compelling himself not to take a step back, “You can just write  _Batman_ on there.”

“Uh,” Taeil breathes again when the other straightens up, “okay.” He quickly scribbles  _Batman_ onto the cup, slots the marker behind his ear, and gets to working on the drink.

“Thanks,”  _Batman_  grins when Taeil hands him the drink, leaving a five-dollar bill in the shorter man’s hand. “Keep the change,” he winks flirtatiously. Taeil nods rigidly in response, gripping the counter hard.

“Thanks, Taeil!” He waves goodbye (when Taeil finally hands him the drink), looking pointedly at Taeil’s nametag.

Taeil wonders, maybe it  _is_  a little odd.

 

x

 

“Do you study here too?” 

Taeil looks up from the cup in his hands, where he’d just scrawled the name  _The Great Wizard_ in block letters, “No, I go to another college.”

 _The Great Wizard_ nods, handing his rewards card over to Taeil, who grabs it with a quiet ‘thanks’.

“So, Lord of the Rings?”

It wasn’t like Taeil to make small talk with customers, but he’s seen  _The Great Wizard_ for a couple days in a row now, and Taeil still refers him to him by a series of ridiculous aliases. Together, they’ve gone through a bunch of the popular characters from the Marvel series (“You can call me  _The Black Widow_ ,” he’d said one day. It took Taeil every cell in his body to not convulse in laugher when Doyoung whispered sarcastically, “Comparing himself to ScarJo?  _Please_.”)

It seemed like they were moving onto a different movie franchise now.

“Try Harry Potter,”  _The Great Wizard_ grins, holding up his phone and imitating the swish of a wand.

“I actually haven’t seen any of the Harry Potter movies,” Taeil admits. The machine beeps, and  _The Great Wizard’s_ jaw hits the counter.

“What!” He exclaims, eyes growing wide in shock, and Taeil resists the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl at the exaggerated reaction. “Honestly?” He asks again, and when Taeil shakes his head,  _The Great Wizard_ nearly throws a fit, “No  _expecto patronum_? No  _number four Pivet Drive_?”

Taeil caves, laughing, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 _The Great Wizard_ slouches comically, looking defeated, “You have to watch it!” He insists, “It’ll change your life!”

“I doubt it,” Taeil raises an eyebrow, handing  _The Great Wizard_ his rewards card and receipt.

“C’mon,”  _The Great Wizard_  bounces on the spot, wallet clutched close to his chest, lips turned into a downward pout. Taeil thinks it could quite possibly be one of the cutest things he’s seen the entire year, “It’s one of the best film series out there, it’s my entire childhood!” He proclaims, “I’m positive you’ll like it!”

“And what if I don’t?” Taeil laughs, tapping his fingers against the cash register, ignoring the dirty look the next customer in line is throwing at him.

“I’ll owe you one!” The taller smirks, shoving his wallet into his pocket.

Taeil puffs out his chest and gathers as much confidence as he can, curiosity eating him alive, “Would you tell me your name?”

 _The Great Wizard_ ’s smile grows even wider, but he offers in response, “I’ll buy you coffee!” Smiling broadly, he flashes Taeil a set of pearly white teeth, gleaming behind his full, pink lips.

“I get enough coffee when I’m working shifts,  _The Great Wizard,_ ” Taeil mocks sarcastically, a little defeated. Rolling his eyes, Taeil uncaps the marker before calling out, “Next!”

(After he collects his drink, Taeil doesn’t miss it when  _The Great Wizard_ looks over his shoulder, sending Taeil a knowing smirk. When their gazes meet, Taeil fumbles nervously with a plastic cup, catching it quickly before it falls to the ground. Even from outside the café,  _The Great Wizard_ guffaws, a loud barking noise, the corners of his eyes crinkling.)

           

(“I can’t believe you’re watching Harry Potter,” Taeyong muses, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl in Taeil’s arms. “I’ve been trying to get you to watch this for years…  _Years_!”

Taeil shushes him, leaning against the headboard of his bed, laptop perched precariously on his lap, “Had a change of heart,” he hums.

Taeyong huffs, sinking lower into the bed, resting his head on a pile of pillows stacked against the headboard, reaching for another handful of popcorn just as the Warner Bros. logo emerges from a storm of clouds.)

 

x

 

“So, did you watch it yet?”

Taeil hands the cup to Jaehyun, a new barista, the name  _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_  glaring up at him.

“No,” Taeil lies (he’s seen three out of eight so far), “I haven’t had the time.”

 _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ looks at Taeil flabbergasted, “It’s summer!”

“If you haven’t noticed,” Taeil waits for the machine to beep, “I’m here,” he gestures to the café, “almost all the time.”

 _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ sighs, “Okay, but at least  _promise_ you’ll give it a try?”

Taeil plucks the receipt from the printer and hands it to him, “What’s it to you anyway?”

 _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ ’s lips form a tiny ‘o’ for just a second, as if he were wondering the same thing, before his grins his signature grin, “Just wanted to make sure my  _favourite_  barista isn’t missing out on the good things in life,” he sing-songs, walking away with a skip in his step.

Taeil blushes furiously.

 

x

 

It’s particularly rainy day when Taeil sees him again, and by then, the barista had finished all eight Harry Potter movies. 

“I’ve watched them all,” Taeil says, suddenly self conscious, feeling  _The Chosen One_ stare at the crown of his head when he loads the order.

“Really!”  _The Chosen One_ has a hand on his heart, “I’m touched.”

Taeil scoffs, “Don’t be,” he taps his fingers on the machine impatiently, heart thumping loudly in contrast to his somewhat calm exterior, “So, what do I get in return?” He hands the receipt and rewards card to  _The Chosen One,_ who slides the card back into his wallet.

“Experiencing the magical realm that is Harry Potter, of course!”  _The Chosen One_ throws his hands up in the air, eyebrows raised, a smug expression on his face. When Taeil gives him an unimpressed look,  _The Chosen One_ cackles, a hand reaching over the counter, inches away from Taeil’s cheek.

Taeil refuses the urge to flinch, standing firm, even though  _The Chosen One_ is completely invading his personal space. His long fingers pinch the marker that was tucked behind his ear, uncapping it quickly. He scratches noisily on the back of the receipt, before handing it to Taeil with the marker in hand.

“Call me?” a lopsided grin, sending Taeil’s heart into overdrive. He laughs, almost triumphantly, when Taeil nods emotionlessly (the most he can manage), and moves to the left.

It’s only after  _The Chosen One_ leaves, that Taeil reads the note gripped tightly in his hand — Beside the nine-digit phone number, a neat introduction,  _The name’s Youngho,_  and several tiny hearts. Taeil grins to himself, folding the receipt neatly, keeping it safely in the pocket of his waist apron.

 

 

 

(“Oh, yeah, Youngho, I know him,” Taeyong reveals that very night. “He’s in my accounting class.” A pillow thwacks the pink-haired man in the face, “What!” he tosses the pillow back at Taeil, who catches it with ease, “You didn’t ask!” Taeyong whistles, earning himself another whack to the face by a very small, very flustered barista.)

**Author's Note:**

> kudos + comments / criticisms are greatly appreciated ♡ feedback warmly welcomed! [twitter](https://twitter.com/jenhyungs) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/jenhyung) | [more notes](https://jenhyung.tumblr.com)


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